I have met Neil Gaiman once, so perhaps it’s a bit unseemly for me to engage in a throwdown over whose childhood photo is more embarrassing. But sometimes we do things that aren’t perhaps in accordance with the rules of proper comportment, and I truly mean it in good fun (and it’s not like Neil Gaiman reads my blog, anyway). So, as promised, here’s that picture of Grandpa and me in 1983 or so, both of us sporting big honkin’ plastic glasses. At least Grandpa’s are black and kind of geeky-cool.
You can’t see it, but my rockin’ beige numbers sported an “Annie” logo on the side. To wit:
And no, the glasses did not give their wearer translucent eyeballs, thank god. I had enough problems. As an adult, though, I’d wear translucent Annie glasses in a hot minute.
You know, Grandpa’s hair never did go gray. It didn’t stay as jet black as it was in this picture, but right up to the end his hair remained a sort of dull shade of black. Grandma Gloria said it had to do with his blood pressure medication. All I know is, he didn’t dye it. I never found anything remotely resembling Just For Men in his medicine cabinet. There was an awful lot of smoker’s tooth polish, though.